What a Girl Wants
by LR Earl
Summary: Who needs candy hearts for Valentine's Day when one can have sex? Hermione Granger sure doesn't. AU Eighth Year. My submission for Strictly Dramione's Valentine's Day Smut Fest 2018.


_an: Happy Valentine's Day everyone. This was written for Strictly Dramione's Valentine's Day Smut Fest 2018. Enjoy! x_

 **Warnings** : Hogwarts Eighth Year, AU, PWP

* * *

Forget Valentine's Day, truly, Hermione Granger repeated to herself as she strode down Hogwarts' newly-repaired halls. What was Valentine's anyway, but an insipid holiday thrust upon the masses to conjure shame on the lonely-hearted and anxiety upon the coupled?

Taking great care to look over her shoulder, Hogwarts' Head Girl approached an old wooden door. Her evening patrols were completed, and she had long dismissed her partner before setting off for her true destination this evening. As she turned the knob, her heart gave a lurch before it began to race.

Yes, this was much more suitable than an awkward evening at Madam Puddifoot's over chocolate treats. Unbeknownst to her paired-off friends, Hermione had, likewise, planned to indulge tonight.

"Remove your clothes," cool clipped tones greeted her upon entry into the abandoned classroom. As the door closed behind her, she stubbornly unfastened her cloak, careful not to disturb her neatly-fastened Head Girl pin. Unhappy with her deliberate hesitation, her companion ordered, " _Now_ , Granger."

As if Draco Malfoy had somewhere else to be for the evening?

 _Thump. Thump. Thump_ , her traitorous heart pummeled against her ribcage.

Following suit, her hands began to tremble as she unbuttoned her Oxford shirt. Why was she so nervous? She had been waiting for this moment for some time, but anticipation made it difficult to move, to function, or to think of anything but _him ._

 _Whatever_ this was started about three months ago, if she remembered correctly. She had been studying late one night in the library, when the object of her desire strode past her work table.

No one knew Hermione Granger secretly fancied Draco Malfoy. He was everything she was taught to loathe in a man, and as much as her mind warred against reason, she could not help her body's chemical response anytime he neared.

He had returned from war somehow different, and yet, the same. She supposed she had, as well. Malfoy's quiet maturity and most pleasing exterior did little to extinguish her secret crush. Soon, it became harder to ignore the elegant mixture of Malfoy's cologne and his natural scent when he walked by. Try as she might, her eyes automatically sought his whenever he entered a room. It was absolutely maddening, and the more she tried to deny it, the more she would wind into a state. Alone in her bedroom, she did things she would never tell anyone, ever, before blessed sleep would take her. Although her late night fantasies had eased the edge temporarily, the wretched feeling would not abate.

It all came to a head late one evening in the library. Poor Ernie MacMillan, her fellow Head, had taken off after Hermione snapped at him in frustration.

By happenstance, Malfoy overheard the entire exchange between the Heads. Like she so often did, she caught eyes with the Malfoy heir, enough to steal her breath, before angrily turning to put away her books. She quickly retreated to her beloved stacks about to push the entire ordeal out of her mind when she became aware of a presence at her back.

She knew it was him before turning around.

Little had been said between them. The very air weighed heavily with unspoken possibility. Distantly, she remembered him asking after her, and she, replying warily, yet uncertain.

Looking back, that conversation was the spark that led them … to _this._

Presently, her … _partner,_ for lack of a better term, lounged effortlessly against a dilapidated desk. She barely made out his profile in the dark, though really, she didn't need to see him. As long has he gave her what they'd agreed to months ago. And that, quite simply, was sex. Nothing more and nothing less. The fact that it was with each other, made it all the more alluring and dangerous, she supposed, but that was neither here nor there.

Quickly, her fingers made short work of her shirt. She was terribly impatient when it came to this. By time she got to the fourth button, he halted her movements.

"Slower." There, in the darkness, a corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

The rotten bastard. He may shag her into nirvana, but Draco Malfoy was still a right git. She exhaled, audibly, and slowed her movements. She shrugged out of the shirt, and let it fall to the ground. She shimmed out of her skirt next, before standing up, in a black underwear set. Willing the tempest within to quell, she waited for Malfoy to make the next move. All day long, she suffered through lovebirds as they exchanged sweets and love letters.

Tonight, however, was a Valentine's gift to herself.

She stepped closer, eager to begin. "Get off the desk, Malfoy." It was her turn to order. She'd grown impatient with his refusal to participate.

"I'm sorry?"

She did not have to see him to know that his brow was arched. She may have not have known him well, but she knew he fancied the way she bossed people around. He admitted as much during their first rendezvous. "You heard me. Or, are you scared to join me?" One arm reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. The black garment joined her shirt and skirt on the floor below. She studied his expression as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Maybe I like to watch," he hinted suggestively, taking in the sight she presented.

Lowering her eyelids, Hermione smiled in response as she hooked a finger on either side of her knickers and teased them down her legs. She stood back up and closed her eyes (because she wasn't as always as brave as she let on). Imagining her fingers were his, her hand flitted and skirted across her chest. She could not stop her mouth from falling open as she took a nipple between her forefinger and thumb. Her other hand travelled lower as she showed Malfoy exactly how she liked to be touched.

"Tell me, what are you thinking about?" he interrupted her ministrations, no doubt memorizing every subtle movement. Malfoy was, if anything, a quick study.

She opened heavy lids to pierce him with a meaningful glare. "How much I want you inside me," she admitted, her voice rough from want.

 _Finally,_ Malfoy stood from his seat. Like a Cheshire cat, he languidly crossed the distance between them. With a painful tug to her hair, he angled her head to his and claimed every inch of her pliant mouth. She tasted the firewhiskey he'd consumed earlier as she reached for his collar to balance unsteady legs. Her naked front pressed against his shirt, but this would not do. The sensation was all wrong.

While his mouth danced upon hers, her hands slipped beneath his cardigan to pull the offending garment out of his trousers. She tugged upwards and both parted as the items sailed over his head. Once the shirt cleared, he returned with a renewed vigor.

Hermione smiled into the kiss as she pressed against him. Yes, this was much better as her breasts pressed into his solid chest. Rough, yet firm, hands ran over her back and down to cup her bum. She groaned into his neck as he squeezed her cheeks before reaching around to cup her mound. Helplessly, she could not stop her legs from quivering in response.

Deft fingers swiped through her slit. "Fuck," he breathed against her hairline as two fingers slipped into her wet heat. Malfoy took his time as he primed her, though it really wasn't necessary. "How long has it been?" he mused aloud, although he knew full-well how long it had been.

She did not respond, still in awe that she saw this side of him, and that he knew this side of her. "Too long," she sighed against his shoulder, bathing in the mix of her heady scent and his cologne. Another finger stretched against her walls to join the others. She squirmed against him and grew impatient. Three fingers could not compare to him. It could never.

"Mmm," he replied, as his tongue sampled the crook of her neck. It was a favorite spot of his, she'd learned. "I'll have to correct that immediately." He lifted her easily, and carried her like a valued prize until her bare back hit the classroom wall.

She gripped fine blond hair and sighed, "About time, Malfoy." She ground her teeth together as Malfoy suckled and nipped the breast she had fondled earlier. He mimicked the same movements she'd demonstrated earlier. No longer having access to his mouth, she nipped at the shell of his ear. Damn, why did everything about this man smell so good to her? He chuckled and responded with a nip of his own. She hissed at the influx of pleasure, mixed with pain.

Lifting his head to meet hers, Malfoy named her, "My little minx." He took his time to remove his trousers as he bent and re-secured her legs around his waist. Both noted how perfectly she fit to him, though neither mentioned it aloud.

"Malfoy, _please,_ " she begged through clenched teeth, her patience already thin. As much as she wanted _this_ to last, they did not have all night. Real life waited for them outside of the classroom.

"Patience, Granger." Once again, his head lowered to claim an aching nipple. Fire burned through her veins and all she could think was **_more_ .**It took two attempts, but finally, she dislodged him from her breast with a wet 'plop'. Shaky, almost-numb legs returned to the ground as he dropped her, but they held. She gave a dark grin as Malfoy lost his footing and tumbled to his backside, surprised. The advantage hers, she sat on top of him and pinned him with her knees.

"I gave you every opportunity to take what was yours, but you just had to tease." She tsk-ed as she dragged his underpants down to his ankles and freed him from confinement. A firm hand wrapped around his straining, erect member as beads of pre-cum leaked onto her thumb. Lifting to align him with her entrance, she pierced him with a smug look and gloated, "Now, it's my turn to watch."

Watching Malfoy's face go slack with desire as he became a part of her was the best Valentine's gift one could receive. Inch by inch, Malfoy parted her lower lips and stretched her to capacity. It was glorious enough to send her sailing, and addicting enough to make her forget an enemy's past. They held each other's gaze as if the sight of the other was a trick. Not yet settled, Hermione lifted from him.

Malfoy groaned in protest. She tracked a bead of sweat as it fell down his temple and mockingly lifted a brow as he would. "More, is it?" she asked. She resisted the urge to fully seat herself upon him as she wiggled her glistening entrance against the head of his cock. The resulting growl vibrated through his chest as his hands clenched in warning. " _Patience, Malfoy,_ " she mocked, aware of the dangerous territory she was rapidly approaching.

His eyes flashed in the darkness. That was her only warning before she found herself flipped onto her back. Hard muscles met soft curves as she struggled beneath him.

Swiftly grabbing a leg in each hand, Malfoy scooted forward to bury himself into her fully. The intrusion was as sharp as it was filling. Eyes screwed shut, Hermione bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, in effort not to scream. _Finally ,_ she screamed in her mind.

For all their playful teasing, when it came to sex, Draco Malfoy was not gentle. He did not take his time. And she could not thank him more for it. Head thrown back in ecstasy, the Head Girl mewled in delight as he sank into her over and over again, seemingly careless that her back scratched roughly across the stone floor.

"Tell me, Granger," he huffed into her ear between thrusts. "Does anyone else fuck you like this?"

Her mouth worked to respond, truly it did, but no words would come. Stuttered gasps and non-verbal sounds were all she could produce. Damn him.

A rough hand pulled on her curls until she lifted to meet his mouth. Their tongues warred for dominance as she tried to convey every wretched/wonderful feeling her rival gifted her. Because shagging Draco Malfoy shouldn't feel _this_ good.

"... so good…" she mumbled, as pure sensation overcame a sense of reason.

"Should we end this?" he asked as he lowered along the length of her. His arm tightened around her waist, so much so, that she had to arch into him.

Malfoy must have known the angle granted him deeper access as he took advantage of the position. Over and over, he gave her reasons why they shouldn't.

"I love the way you flutter around me just before you come." He shifted their joined hips, enough to make her womb clench in near-pain. "You grip me like a finely-tailored glove, you know? Feels bloody amazing." Malfoy increased his stroke, enough to send her world into darkness, or was it light? Damned, if she knew.

Hermione suddenly broke apart in his arms, completely unaware and uncaring to whomever could have came through the door at that moment. Her walls fluttered and pulsed against him as he fucked her through her orgasm.

"No," she whimpered as her body sang for him. Only for him. "Gods, no." Malfoy sent her soul to heaven as he anchored her body with expert hands, teeth, and cock. Dimly, she grew aware of a hand squeezing between their sweat-covered limbs. She watched as he stroked her sensitive nub. He pushed against the bit of flesh as he pulled out of her. Then his thumb caressed her little bead just as he sank back into the heat of her. Over and over, he repeated this madness (though, it was the farthest from it really) until the waves knocked her under once more. Malfoy always brought her, so beautifully, to the brink.

He pulled out of her, then, easily spreading her arousal across their thighs. He flipped her limp body and dragged her to sit up on her knees, determined to give her more. She smiled dumbly. Well, it was Valentine's Day, after all. Fingers brushed reverently across her pert bum before he smacked her rear. There was one moment of righteous anger at the thought of being spanked before he entered her from behind. With the new angle, he was deeper than before and she could not stop the mewl that slipped past her lips.

"Gods, you're so bloody tight," he breathed as he sank into her, a man on a mission. He experimentally rolled his hips, searching and teasing, until he found the spot he was looking for. "I want you to come only for me, Granger. Could you do that?" he grated until his cock brushed against her womb.

Her womb jumped at the intrusion as her legs threatened to give out. Her knees ached against the stone, but the feeling was secondary to her body winding and winding upon itself. Malfoy was determined to break through her womb as she wailed into her elbow.

"No one else but you…" he worshipped above her, as if the pronouncement had been pulled from him.

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as her body finally gave into his command. Above her, Malfoy tried to stroke through her third orgasm, but as if caught off guard, Malfoy locked around her. With a sharp swear, he jerked against her bum before spilling deep inside of her. Together, they slid to the floor in a heap, completely spent and oh-so wonderfully sated.

He pulled her to lay on top of him, so that her battered back did not touch the cold, stone floor. He nudged her chin with a finger, so that she had no choice but look at him. She secretly thought Malfoy wanted her to look at him, so she would always know who'd shattered her so beautifully; so she could acknowledge that it was him, and no one else. Softer than she'd imagined, a pale finger brushed against her kiss-bruised lips.

"Better?" he asked as he wrapped an arm about her waist.

Hermione couldn't help but smile in response. "Took you long enough," was all she could say.

The unlikely lovers lay in silence before Malfoy posed a question to the quiet classroom. "Whatever will you do after the term's over, Granger?"

Hermione snorted as she lay on his chest. Here, she turned away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "How do you know I haven't any other lovers? Don't tell me, you thought you were the only one?"

The arm that sat on the small of her waist tightened. It wasn't by much, but she noticed it just the same. "Hmm. You know Malfoys don't take kindly to sharing." It was a statement, and not a question.

"Bully for Malfoys," Hermione teased, her heart uncharacteristically light. Fantastic sex would do that to a witch, she mused. Slowly, she stood and started to dress as their rendezvous came to its natural end. "Guess you'll have to make a honest witch of me, then?"

"Marriage, you say?" He pretended to think the proposition over as he watched his seed dribble down her legs. "You drive a hard bargain, Granger." He paused, as if truly considering her offer, before responding sarcastically, "Deal."

Hermione chuckled outright as she found her cloak, desperate to ease the tension that always returned when they finished. What they shared in private did not negate who they were in public.

Thinking of no other parting that would suffice, Hermione offered as she reached the door, "Happy Valentine's Day, Malfoy."

She pulled on the knob, but a hand above her head held the door shut.

"It _is_ our first Valentine's together," a whisper caressed her ear as arms ensnared her waist from behind. "And the night's still young. Don't the Heads have a private bath?"

* * *

At the same time in Wiltshire, Narcissa Malfoy worked in her husband's grand study. She sat at a large oak desk painstaking reviewing every invitation. Yes, the party she was planning for Draco's birthday and his matriculation from Hogwarts was shaping up to be quite an event. Of course, she'd invited all of her friends _and_ their any luck, an engagement and wedding celebration would quickly follow.

Thoughts of party-planning were quickly interrupted when she heard a soft scratching sound. _What on earth?_ Eyes narrowed, she grabbed her wand in search of the noise, but no one else was in the room. The scratching continued as she stood. Moving about the large desk, she made her way to the wall that held the Malfoy family tree and lineage. She followed the generations along the wall, and slowed as she approached her name and Lucius Malfoy; one of the last branches on the tree. Her eyes narrowed as she discerned the source of the scratching. It was coming from the last heir of the Malfoy line.

In delicate handiwork, aided by blood magic, the wall etched in gold filigree the name 'Hermione Jean Granger' next to her son's name. A branch grew out and interconnected the leaf to her son. _Sweet Nimue, what happened?!_

Narcissa gasped in shock and ran out the room in search of her husband. Her son had married Hermione Granger.


End file.
